


The Third Degree

by 84Reesdy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk Hermione Granger, F/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29063556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/84Reesdy/pseuds/84Reesdy
Summary: Hermione's late night antics earn some attention from Severus at home.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43
Collections: Hearts and Cauldrons - Daily Prompts!





	The Third Degree

_*Hiccup!*_

Hermione covered her mouth as she slipped otherwise quietly through the front door. She held her breath as the hinges creaked ever-so-slightly. The door latched and she let out a breath before her diaphragm betrayed her again, _*Hiccup!*_

“Damn,” She cursed as she turned around, “Merlin’s Balls!” She swore again as she jolted, a shadowy figure sitting nearly still in the living room, “Severus, _don’t do that_!” she was still fighting off dizziness as she pulled her scarf from around her neck and shrugged off her coat. 

“I assume you are unaware of the time.” His voice cut through the darkness as if the night existed to bend to his will.

“I know its late,” Hermione slurred a bit, her hint of sarcasm much thicker than she’d intended, “But I’m not a child, Severus, I can have a night out if I feel like it,” 

“You’re age is not my argument.” he closed his book and let it slip from his fingers onto the side table, “I merely expect the courtesy of a disclosure of your whereabouts, your general plans for the evening.”

“I already have a father, I don’t need another,” She scoffed with a searing tone. She didn’t give her words much thought - only hoping that they were the last of the evening. She did not feel well and a war of words did not seem in any way appealing to her. But even drunk, she regretted them immediately. 

At first she thought her uncooperative limbs were her own fault, having stumbled more than once and the few steps of the Knight Bus. Its lucky appearance saved her from drunkenly apparating to Merlin-knows-where. She struggled to move, her brain was slow to comprehend the effects of an _Petrificus Totalus_ charm. She felt as if she should be falling, but she didn’t, held upright by an invisible force that created a tight pressure around her. 

“Let’s try this again, shall we Ms. Granger?” Severus had a threatening tone, but even inebriated, Hermione could hear his evident amusement. Sometimes her insolence entertained him. She felt intimidated but more-so curious over his intent.

“This is idiotic, Severus, I just want to lie down,” she grumbled as she was moved at the direction of his wand back to the entryway. 

“Humor me,” He stood now, his wand lowering some, but not relinquishing its control of her. His test of wills was achieving its attempt to slowly sober her up. 

Hermione huffed, agitated, but did not otherwise protest. She watched his slow approach, her arms pinned to her side, her head was the only part of her she was free to move, “Fine,”

“Now, Ms. Granger,” Severus looked her over, ““You’re late. Care to explain yourself?”

“I must’ve forgotten myself. My office mates and I went out to the pub and time got away from me,” She offered, knowing he would require more than that, “I should have sent you a post or something. My apologies,” 

“That was one of your weaker apologies, Hermione,” Severus scolded her, “I believe you owe me better than that. I believe a punishment is still in order,” he tipped his head back slightly as if in thought over the multitude of possibilities. 

“You don’t want to punish me,” She sneered, wondering if she could persuade him to brew an herbal cocktail that would alleviate her over-indulgence. Of course, even that request after she’d been so cavalier and selfish that evening would come at a price, “You just want me to submit to you,”

“On the contrary, I absolutely want to punish you, Granger,” He turned on his heel and walked back to his chair. He sat, sheathing his wand again. She nearly fell having to quickly regain her balance, “Your submission will come naturally after.” 

She shuffled to his side, still tired, but her curiosity kept her interest. As she stood by his knees, she eyed a small glass of a reddish liquid. Hopefully it was the _sober-up_ she wanted.

“Is that for me?” She tried not to side-eye it as she looked at him. 

His hand motioned towards it, silently affirming such. She drank it quickly, knowing it was unpleasant to taste. It burned her throat and belly far more than any fire whiskey, but she kept it down. It was a process, but her senses began to return to full alertness. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Hermione snapped indignantly. She reached under her skirt and tugged at her knickers so they eventually slipped down her legs. She bunched her skirt around her waist and unceremoniously laid across his lap.

“I would be mindful of that attitude, Granger,” His gritted teeth hinted at his agitation, as did the unusually sharp smack of his hand across her bare bottom. She jolted at the sudden briskness. Usually he started much softer, warming her up before displaying any force, “Do I have your attention now?” He murmured, his hand rubbing the stinging, pink flesh.

“Again,” She closed her eyes, her fingers digging into the arm of the chair. 

“Don’t tell me this gets you off, Witch,” He sneered, but acquiesced, treating the other cheek to an equally sharp blow. 

“You know damn well it does, Snape,” She gasped after the next strike, growling through her own gritted teeth, “Now...show me what bad little witches like me deserve,” 

  
  



End file.
